


Like the Wind on the Mountain Oaks

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke, Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: Corsetry, Crossdressing, Crossover, Other, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: John Segundus and Michael Godfrey are estranged siblings. Then one day they happen to meet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It was suggested on Tumblr that Segundus and Godfrey might be estranged siblings. I liked the idea so much that I took it and ran with it (and added some incest for good measure).
> 
> All the chapters of this fic were written and edited very quickly. The first three chapters were posted to Tumblr before they were posted here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 on Tumblr can be found at: <http://ohveda.tumblr.com/post/167634516823/wolfinthethorns-wrote-some-wonderful-tags-about>

John Segundus did not much like London. It was busy and crowded and noisy and dirty, and despite the fact that he had lived there now for four months, he had hardly found any documents at all that would be useful to his study of magic. Thinking that fellow magicians might perhaps lead his research onto more fruitful paths, Segundus had even taken to consulting with London's many, ragged street sorcerers in their yellow-curtained booths.

For some days now, Segundus had been visiting a booth on Threadneedle Street. There was something about the booth's occupant that caused Segundus to think his conversation worthwhile (despite the fact that Segundus fancied the man had yet to say one truthful word).

"You speak of a prophecy," said Segundus, on this rainy March morning, "yet you have neglected to tell me what it is."

The magician eyed him from the other side of the booth.

"I have given you half a crown," stated Segundus.

The magician scratched his cheek and peered at Segundus with one eye closed. "In your future," the magician declared theatrically, "I see an important meeting." The magician appeared to think about this meeting for a moment. "With your brother."

"I do not have a brother," replied Segundus.

The magician seemed rather embarrassed to hear this. "Ah," he said.

"You told me," said Segundus, "that your prophecy was of great importance to English magic."

"It is!" The magician leered at him. "Indeed it is! But my powers of prophesying are now drained. You must return tomorrow."

"And pay you another half a crown, I expect?" asked Segundus.

"It is a small price to pay!" declared the magician, "for knowledge of the future!"

"Indeed," said Segundus. He sighed and picked up his hat. "Thank you. Good day."

Outside on the street, the rain came down faster than ever. People rushed to and fro about their business, not caring to linger in their journeys. Indeed, the street was so busy that Segundus nearly collided with several people as he stepped out of the booth.

"I am sorry," said Segundus as a man in a top hat brushed past him.

"Beg pardon," said the man in return, though this was said briskly and over his shoulder as he continued on his way.

Yet how funny! There was something about the man that was familiar, though Segundus couldn't say how. Indeed, he had barely even seen him, but was there a familiarity in his nose? His brow? Segundus squinted at his retreating form, but soon the man had turned a corner and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted on Tumblr here: <http://ohveda.tumblr.com/post/167668757418/if-you-missed-it-yesterday-wolfinthethorns-had>

John Segundus did not often visit places like these. Places (how to put it politely?) of no morals, where men of a certain stamp could find men of a similar stamp, and together they might discover ways of aligning those stamps in a most satisfactory way. It was, in short, a Molly house.

Poor Segundus feared the danger that accompanied such places: the threat of discovery. Thus he avoided them for as long as he could, living his celibate life in his small scholarly way and taking care not to think of anything that might lead him into longings of a carnal sort.

Alas, Segundus was unable to avoid such longings forever. Indeed, sometimes those longings grew so palpable, so thick, that he was forced to set about satisfying them. Hence this night, when he had felt driven to enter the Molly house, there to find some long-desired male company.

You must not think here that Segundus was an innocent in such places, and yet it must be admitted that he was not entirely _au fait_ with them either. Why, he visited them only once every few years, to relieve his most urgent desires, and then he would quickly pack himself off to his life of quiet solitude once more.

In particular, Segundus was not _au fait_ with the Molly houses of London (for he had been in that city but a few months). Not only did London host several such establishments, but Segundus had not quite expected how large the house he found himself in would be! How full it was of people!

Never entirely comfortable in large crowds, Segundus steeled himself for what must be done. Looking around at the busy room he had just entered, he fancied that he might do well to get himself a little drunk. Then he would choose the first man that showed any interest and gain as much knowledge of that man's body as was possible in a short space of time.

It was upon the first of these tasks that Segundus set out, and he looked to find a serving boy who would provide him with some wine. As this first room did not appear very promising in that regard, Segundus passed through a doorway into another. This new room contained many candles, a large mirror upon one wall, and a group of Mollys listening to one (rather inebriated) gentleman sing a song about his "Dear Richard".

Segundus frowned, looked about for a serving boy, and then returned his gaze to the group of Mollys. One of them, with a large blonde wig and a purple dress, had such a compelling sense of familiarity in her face that Segundus found he could not stop looking at her. He did not quite know... He had seen her before, had he not? Surely...

She looked up, and apparently felt that same stroke of recognition, for she did not look away.

They stared at each other across the room.

Segundus was at a loss for what to do. He did not wish to see any familiar faces here, and yet hers was so...

Thankfully, the Molly ended Segundus' indecision be getting up and walking over to him. She placed a hand on his elbow and leaned close to his ear. "I have a room," said she.

Then her hand was gone and she was heading to the doorway, and Segundus, blushing, followed.

It seems that the room the Molly had meant was a bedchamber, covered all over with lace and frills. There was a bed, a dressing table, and a changing screen. Segundus shut the door as he stepped through it, and the Molly turned to him. The paint on her face made her eyes look ever so wide.

Segundus, blushing some more, cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon for... but I... your face..."

The Molly nodded, and still looking at Segundus with those wide eyes, she took him once again by the elbow and this time pulled him over to the dressing table, upon which stood a looking glass.

They looked into it together.

"Oh," said Segundus, quietly, as the reason for his confused recognition became all too apparent. It was no wonder that he hadn't remembered where he had seen her before; it was not a face that he had ever needed to commit to memory, yet he saw it every day in his looking glass when he washed and shaved.

Her face was his own.

Certainly, it was true that they weren't exactly alike, but the nose, the eyes, the mouth...

"Is it magic?" wondered Segundus. "But magic is no longer practised anywhere. It cannot be."

The Molly frowned at him in the looking glass, then stepped away.

"Your name?" she asked.

Segundus turned to her. (And he was still so surprised that he didn't even think to apologise for not introducing himself sooner.) "John," said he.

She looked at him with an impatient air, then gathered up her skirts and sat down on the bed. "Your surname?"

Segundus flushed. He had not meant to give out his full name in a place like this.

The Molly appeared to understand his hesitation. "I will not use it against you," said she gently. "It will not leave this room."

Segundus flushed some more, but acquiesced. "I am John Segundus."

The Molly frowned and scrunched up her face. (Segundus found himself wondering if his own face ever made the same strange expression.) "I do not know the name." She looked at him. "In this place I do not use it, but in my public life my name is Michael Godfrey."

Segundus took a breath. "Oh! But Godfrey was my mother's maiden name."

Godfrey looked at him some more. "Your year of birth?" She removed her wig, revealing a head of black curls.

"1771," said Segundus. His heart was racing.

Godfrey nodded. "I was born in 1769," said she.

Segundus thought about it, though he could barely keep his mind upon the figures. "That is the year before my parents were married."

Godfrey nodded again. "Your place of birth?"

Segundus felt faint. "Kent," said he.

"Kent also," said Godfrey.

They looked at each other.

"I have never met my mother or my father," said Godfrey. "I was raised by friends. Though they weren't very friendly."

Segundus realised that he was about to cry only a few seconds before the tears fell. "I..." said he. "Forgive me." He sniffed and scrabbled in his pocket for his handkerchief.

It was just as Segundus had found his handkerchief and pressed it to his eyes that he felt two arms wrap themselves about his shoulders.

"I believe," said Godfrey gently, "that you have found a brother."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted on Tumblr here: <http://ohveda.tumblr.com/post/167710795283/ive-been-writing-drabbles-about-john-segundus-and>

Once Segundus had calmed, Godfrey poured him a glass of Madeira wine and they both sat upon the bed to talk.

It became apparent that their first assumption was correct; they were indeed brothers, the result of a past dalliance that had been kept quiet from all who had not needed to know. (Segundus and Godfrey, it seems, had been classed amongst those who did not need to know.)

Their childhoods had both been similar and very different. Segundus' lot, though legitimate and (on the face of it) loving, had been mired by loss (of people and money both). Godfrey, meanwhile, had not entered the world with much of either, but she had been set on a path that, with determination and effort, would lead her towards some material comfort.

"I am sorry," said Segundus, at a pause in their conversation. He looked down into his glass.

"What for?" asked Godfrey.

Segundus raised his eyes. Godfrey's expression was as compelling as ever. It was funny to think that her face was so much like Segundus' own (indeed, Segundus couldn't quite believe it, still). Godfrey, with her dark lips and dark eyes and pale skin, was ever so graceful. But grace was one thing Segundus had always lacked.

"I feel," said Segundus, looking to his glass once more, "that I have had everything so easy. And I have stolen that easy path from you."

"Your life does not sound so easy when you tell it," said Godfrey. She stood. "Let me pour you some more wine."

"Thank you," said Segundus, letting her take his glass to refill it. "But I would not be so shocked if you chose to scorn me. It is your right to do so."

Godfrey passed the glass back to Segundus, then sat down and took his free hand with both of her own. "I would not scorn you, dear John." She gave him a soft smile. "I am glad to have found you."

Poor Segundus here had to remove his hand from her grasp so that he could once again pull out his handkerchief and press it to his eyes.

"You are very kind," said Segundus, thickly. "I did not expect to find this much kindness tonight."

"It is not an unkind place," said Godfrey, "however you might think." She took up Segundus' hand again as soon as he had returned his handkerchief to his pocket. "There are good people here, more often than not. Good souls." She smiled.

Segundus smiled in return and squeezed her fingers.

Above the smile, Godfrey's gaze had turned curious. "You have not visited a place like this before?"

Segundus flushed. "No... That is...I have. I have indeed visited places like these." He looked down. "On several occasions I have. I find myself wanting... But I do not often. I have not the courage to visit often."

"Courage," echoed Godfrey.

"You are very brave," said Segundus, looking up, "to come here so often. To have a room here. It is very admirable that you can..." He retracted his hand from hers and clasped it around the stem of his glass. "To dress the way you do."

"To dress as a Molly?" asked Godfrey.

Segundus flushed. "It is very admirable," he repeated. "You are courageous to do what you wish without worrying what others might think." He gave her a smile that was rather wistful. "And I suppose this is where siblings must differ, for I am not a brave man."

Godfrey frowned at him. She brushed down her skirts and placed her hands in her lap. "You are wrong," said she, "John. I am not brave at all. I have never been brave. In my life I meet brave men every day, and I am not one of them."

Segundus looked to her.

"It is because I am not brave that I wear this." She gestured at her gown and her painted face. "When I wear this I feel strong." She stood and walked over to the dressing table (where she had earlier set down her wig) and placed it atop her head again. "When I wear this I no longer need to be little Michael Godfrey." She turned to Segundus. "I can be beautiful, and proud, and feel that even if the whole world might bring its sorrows down upon my head, they will not touch me."

And indeed she did look strong, standing there, tall and straight and beautiful. Segundus watched her with something much like wonder.

Then she seemed to hunch back in on herself again. She sat back down on the bed. "It is precisely because I am not brave that I need this. Perhaps it is a way of hiding..." She brushed down her skirts once again. "...from the realities of the world."

Poor Segundus could barely understand this. He did not know where anyone could face the realities of the world more than in this house, where men drank and kissed and sodomised under the constant threat of discovery and disgrace. "I think it very admirable," repeated he.

Godfrey looked at him for a long while. Segundus watched her dark eyes in return, and wondered what they made of his face, his hair, his small and shabby person.

"Should you like to try it?" asked she.

Segundus flushed.

"Perhaps it might help you to understand." She looked to the dressing table.

"I... I..." Segundus took a sip of his wine. "I do not think... That is, even so... I do not possess your courage."

"Perhaps it might help with that as well," said she.

Segundus flushed again, but when Godfrey smiled, Segundus acquiesced; for he fancied that, even if he didn't like it (and was he not scared that he might like it all too much?) it would be rude to reject this thing that Godfrey held so dear.

(Besides, if the house were raided and they discovered, Segundus knew that his presence here in a bedroom with a Molly would be damaging enough. Sodomites are not acquitted merely because they are not found wearing women's clothing.)

Godfrey took Segundus' hand and led him over to the dressing table. Then she pulled up another chair so that they might sit down together.

"We will do just a little something," said Godfrey, looking him over, then turning to the items upon the table. "A gown is perhaps a bit much for a first attempt. But this... This will wash off and no-one will be any the wiser." She turned Segundus to face her, then picked up a small pot and a brush.

Segundus did not think it possible to blush any more brightly than he was doing. He felt his hands shaking, and clasped them together.

Godfrey dipped the brush into the pot to draw out a white substance. This she set to painting all over Segundus' face, even using a hand to hold back his hair, so that she might paint it onto his brow. It was a very curious feeling. The brush tickled, and wherever it had been Segundus' skin felt heavy. He found himself surprised that the paint had a weight to it.

"There." When Godfrey was done she sat back and motioned for Segundus to turn so that he might see himself in the looking glass.

A white, wide-eyed face stared back at Segundus. He felt a little like a ghost. And even though he was very much still blushing, the blush could no longer be seen.

Godfrey motioned for Segundus to turn back to her, and she picked up several more pots, painting Segundus' face with each of them in turn. It was not easy for Segundus to sit still under such close scrutiny. Godfrey was watching Segundus' face very closely as she went about her work, her red lips parted with concentration.

Sometimes Godfrey placed a hand on Segundus' chin to still him, and sometimes she used a finger to gently pull down on an eyelid, or a lip. Every part of Segundus' face felt touched, singled out; every part felt now heavier than it had been before.

Segundus wondered if the paint would make his face look as compelling as Godfrey's did. Or if, as with her, when he saw his painted face he would feel the urge to stare and stare and never look away. After all, their faces were more alike than he had first thought. The bones of her cheeks were just as high, her jaw just as wide (and would, thought Segundus, her chin feel rough, as his did, if he reached out to touch it?) And yet Godfrey's dress made her neck seem ever so graceful. Her wrists and hands were strong.

Godfrey picked up a final pot. For this one she did not use a brush but instead dipped in her fingers and then smoothed them across Segundus' cheeks. Segundus' skin tingled in response.

Finally, Godfrey sat back. She looked at Segundus for a long time, then leant forward again and brushed one final thumb across his cheek before sitting back once more. "I am finished," said she.

When Godfrey gestured at the looking glass, Segundus turned to look. What he saw staring back it him was not his own face. It was too beautiful: the skin smooth, the cheeks a blushing pink. His eyes were dark and his thin lips red.

Godfrey, too, looked at him in the looking glass for a long time, then she lifted the wig from her own head and sat it atop Segundus'.

Now they truly had switched places. Godfrey was the gentleman, with his dark curls and sideburns, and Segundus was the Molly, courageous enough to wear this painted face and woman's hair. Segundus' heart was beating very fast in his chest.

Godfrey turned to Segundus so that she might appraise him face-to-face, and Segundus obliged, turning to her also.

"How do you feel?" asked Godfrey.

Segundus felt certain that he was blushing very hard beneath the paint. "I never thought I would look like this," said he.

Godfrey's wide, dark eyes appeared to be looking over every inch of Segundus' face. "And do you like it?" asked she.

"I..." said Segundus. He wondered if he and Godfrey looked more alike now; if his dark, painted eyes compelled her to follow them as much as he felt compelled to followed hers. "I do not know," said Segundus. "I feel very different." He thought about it. "I find it a little thrilling, to do what I know I should not."

Godfrey's red lips twitched into a smile. "That, perhaps, is good enough," said she. "But I think you look very beautiful." She put a hand on his jaw, and leaned across and kissed him.

It was a kiss upon the lips. Despite this, it could still have been a brief, familial sort of a kiss. But Segundus did not allow it to be.

After a while, Segundus pulled back. "I am sorry," said he.

Godfrey was pressing her lips together, as if she was remembering the feeling upon them. "Why are you sorry?" asked she.

"Because I should not have done that."

"I was the one who kissed you," said she.

"But I should not have continued it."

"You did not like it?"

And how was Segundus to answer that? "I should not have liked it," said he, "as much as I did." He looked to Godfrey, and she looked at him in return.

After a moment, Godfrey shrugged. "There are many things that I should not do," said she. "I am not supposed to dress like this. I am not supposed to desire men's bodies. I am not supposed to wish that men desire mine. This is merely another of those things." She lifted her chin. "I refuse to let the men of London dictate what I may or may not do."

Segundus could not help but admire such bravery. Perhaps it truly was only Godfrey's clothes that made her brave, but Segundus did not think so. "Yet still," said Segundus. "We are siblings. Even your friends in this house would not accept that."

"We have hardly met," countered Godfrey, putting a hand once more to Segundus' jaw. "We are almost strangers. And I know that, of all the men who have walked through this door, you are the most... I cannot stop looking at you." She huffed. "You must feel it."

"I do," admitted Segundus, feeling his cheeks grow hot. "But I fancy I will need time to think it over."

"Very well," said Godfrey, running her hand from Segundus' chin to the back of his neck, "dear John." She smiled a melancholy sort of smile. "Yet I still say you look beautiful like this."

Segundus smiled in return. "Thank you," said he, "for the opportunity to feel so." Something rather empty seemed to have opened up in his chest. "Even so," he turned to the looking glass, "do you have a cloth? I believe it best that I take this paint off."

Thus Godfrey removed Segundus' wig and handed him a cloth, and did everything needed to return him to the state in which he had arrived.

"You know where you may find me," said Godfrey when Segundus' toilet was complete.

"Yes," said Segundus. He hesitated, then took up Godfrey's hand and kissed it. She looked up at him with her wide, dark eyes.

Segundus sighed and let go. "Goodbye. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," replied Godfrey, and she watched him leave the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Almost two weeks had passed and yet Segundus had not returned to the Molly house. He knew it was rude of him not to make contact with Godfrey (knew that Godfrey deserved an explanation, at least, for the silence) but Segundus hadn't sent even the smallest of notes.

It was not, you must understand, because Segundus had forgotten about his newfound sibling, nor was it due to an active dislike. No indeed; Segundus had thought of very little but Godfrey in the whole time they had been apart, and when it came to liking or disliking: why, Segundus found he still liked Godfrey very much.

And perhaps that was the problem. Segundus liked Godfrey as a sibling; they had a similarity of temperament that had made their meeting so enjoyable, so easy. But Segundus feared that he also liked Godfrey as something other than a sibling. Segundus had entered the Molly house in search of a body to sate his desires, and even though he had left unsated (and had remained unsated ever since), he had indeed found a body that he could desire very much.

Had Segundus not always hoped (in his deepest of hearts) to discover a person whose company was as enjoyable as it was comfortable? Had he not wished to find a kindred spirit? someone alike in mind and manner? Had he not longed for a person such as this who would also share Segundus' illicit desire for men's bodies?

Oh, every part of Godfrey had been fascinating and compelling and Segundus wished to know her more: wished to speak to her more, wished to kiss her more, and wished to do many other things besides.

Segundus was well aware that these were not the sorts of feelings one ought to harbour for so near a relation.

Thus, in his indecision (his longing, mixed with his confusion), Segundus had not sought to make contact with Godfrey. (Though Segundus always meant to; every day he thought, "I will explain myself to Godfrey. I will. But I should like just one more day to consider what answer to give; just one more day will not hurt.")

As I am sure you know, a prolonged state of indecision is not comfortable, and so Segundus thought to ease his mind by throwing himself into his magical studies. He had visited the ragged magician on Threadneedle Street almost every day, and in doing so had come to something of a discovery.

The magician, you see, had eventually recited a prophecy to Segundus, which stated that magic was to be returned to England by two magicians (though Segundus, the magician had said, was not one of those two; no matter how much Segundus might have wanted to be). What a curious thing! Magic? Returned? Could it truly be possible that the thing Segundus had wished for his whole life would come to pass?

It is well-known, of course, that prophecies made by street magicians must be taken with a pinch of salt. However, this particular prophecy filled Segundus with a great deal of excitement for reasons he couldn't quite understand. He wondered how soon magic was to be restored (if the prophecy were true); he wondered where the two magicians lived. And a small, curious part of Segundus wondered if he ought to try to seek them out.

One day, as Segundus was pondering these very questions, there came a knock upon the door of the little garret that he called home.

He looked up with some surprise. It was so very rare that he had guests. Could it be that his landlord, who owned the shop below, wanted something?

Thus it was that Segundus, trying to remember if he had a debt unpaid, was rather shocked when he opened the door to reveal a well-dressed gentleman on the other side.

"Good day," said the gentleman, removing his top hat, "I hope you don't mind my coming straight up the stairs, but no-one was in the shop."

Segundus stood in confusion for a second more before he realised who the gentleman was. It was Godfrey.

How very strange! Segundus had only ever known Godfrey as a Molly: beautiful, with her silk gown and painted face. But here was Godfrey as a man: dressed all in black, with fur-trimmed overcoat and leather gloves.

Segundus' mind, it seems, found it very difficult to adjust to this new state of affairs, and it was with a stunned silence that he stepped back to allow Godfrey into the room.

Godfrey picked up a case that was lying by his feet, and entered. He looked a little uncertain. "I hope you don't mind my calling," said he. "I know I haven't been invited, but I thought..." He gave Segundus a pleading sort of look. "I have a little something for you, and so I... But if you wish, I will leave again."

Segundus flushed. "No! Not at all!" said he, shutting the door behind Godfrey. "I do not mind your calling on me." He gave Godfrey a smile (a genuine one, it must be said). "I am pleased to see you."

Godfrey smiled in return, taking off his gloves and his overcoat and looking for somewhere to put them.

Segundus flushed some more. He wondered what Godfrey, with his fashionable clothes, thought of the small way in which Segundus lived (for the room contained only a bed, a chest, a desk and a chair; and those all rather plain and old).

"I am merely surprised," said Segundus, taking Godfrey's things and laying them (for lack of a better place) on top of the chest. "I do not think I told you where I live." He looked to Godfrey. "Not that I mind."

"Ah," said Godfrey, with an almost melancholy smile. "I am privileged, through my work, to know a number of things." He did not offer any further information as to his work, and so Segundus (though he was very curious) did not press him with questions.

"Well," said Segundus, "I am glad you are here." He pulled out the lone chair and offered it to Godfrey, who sat down.

Poor Segundus wondered what sort of greeting was appropriate in this situation. He found he would very much like to put his arms around Godfrey and hug him (or even kiss him; though Segundus knew he should not), but instead he held out his hand.

Godfrey took the hand in both of his own and pressed it. "I too am glad," said Godfrey. "Thank you for welcoming me, dear John."

Segundus smiled; he could not help himself.

Yet before Segundus could sit down also (the bed being the only place left for him), Godfrey rose. He took up the case he had brought with him and set it down upon the floor.

"I had thought," said Godfrey, undoing the clasps. "After your visit, I was thinking and I..." He lifted the lid. "This is for you, if you would like it."

Segundus looked down, and for a moment he could not breathe. There in the case lay something made all of blue silk and lace. Godfrey took it out and held it up, revealing it to be a gown, much like the one he had worn at the Molly house.

"I thought you might like to try it on," said Godfrey. "And if you like it you may keep it." He gave Segundus a quick look. "Or, if that will be difficult, I can keep it for you, and you may visit me and wear it whenever you wish."

Segundus flushed. "Thank you," said he, his voice rather strained, "but I cannot take this! It is too fine. I have not anything at all that I could give in return."

"That is no trouble," replied Godfrey, looking at him. "I do not require anything in return. But after our last meeting I thought you might wish to try on a gown, to see if you like it." He ran a hand over some of the lace trimmings. "And do not worry about the expense. It is one of my own, but I don't wear it nearly so much as it deserves."

Hesitantly, Segundus reached out to touch the gown, the material silky beneath his fingers. "You are quite certain?" he asked.

"I am quite certain," replied Godfrey.

Segundus took a breath. He did not know what to do. Why, he was not certain he would like wearing a gown at all (not enough to warrant taking one of Godfrey's own); but if he did... It was so very thrilling a thing to consider doing! (And who would be any the wiser? No-one need know, save he and Godfrey.) Oh, but what if Segundus then found he liked wearing a gown too much? He was not sure he was ready to become a Molly and frequent Molly houses as Godfrey did.

And yet, it was so very kind of Godfrey to think of him; to have received no word at all, and yet still to visit and offer Segundus one of his dearest possessions. It was this, in the end, that swayed Segundus' mind.

"Very well," said Segundus, looking to Godfrey with red cheeks, "but I am afraid you must help me to put it on, because I do not have the least idea how to do it myself."

Godfrey acquiesced and they set to work. The first task was for Segundus to remove his usual clothes; this would normally have caused him some embarrassment, and yet... Some small part of Segundus rather liked the thought of being undressed, in this small room, with Godfrey. "Perhaps I am comfortable in his presence because he is my brother," thought Segundus to himself (though he didn't truly believe it).

Still, removing one's clothes doesn't take long. Soon Segundus was down only to his stockings and his shirt. Once these had gone, Godfrey handed Segundus a shift (for Godfrey had brought Segundus not just the gown, but the women's undergarments as well).

A shift was much like a shirt (though a little longer), so wearing it did not seem of any great moment. Segundus put on the new stockings and the slippers also (blue, to match the gown), and then Godfrey helped him on with the stays, the petticoat, the rolls, the skirt, the robe.

When all was done, Godfrey stepped back to observe their work. "There," said he. "How do you feel?"

Segundus looked down at himself: layers of pretty blue silk and lace. He did not quite realise how much he longed to see himself fully, until Godfrey unhooked the small looking glass from the wall and held it out for Segundus to peer into.

How very strange his appearance! While Segundus had been donning the clothes, he had felt very much as if he didn't belong in them, like some imposter, stealing what should not be his. Yet the person in the looking glass didn't seem to be any such thing. No; the person in the looking glass (the _Molly_ in the looking glass) looked as elegant and as graceful as Godfrey had been. (Indeed, it was only the lack of a wig and painted face that differed between Segundus now and Godfrey then.)

Segundus turned this way and that. It was funny how a change of clothes could make someone's character appear so very different. Why, this was not Segundus, the poor, ragged scholar; this was a beautiful Molly, who wasn't afraid to do as she wished. Godfrey had said that the clothes made him feel strong, and Segundus hadn't understood at the time, but now...

The surprising thing was that it wasn't just the way Segundus looked that made him fancy himself more brave than normal, more proud than normal; it was the way the clothes felt to wear them. Being wrapped in the women's undergarments had changed Segundus' posture. He stood tall and straight now, where he had not before. There was something comforting about holding oneself in this way, about being in the continual embrace of the stays. Segundus did indeed feel strong. He felt as if misfortune could buffet him with its most powerful winds but he would not be blown down.

"I feel..." started Segundus, but found he did not have the words to finish his thought. He lifted his chin higher, just to see how it would look in the glass. "Does it feel this way every time you wear it?"

Godfrey was sporting a wide smile. "Mostly, yes," he replied.

Segundus took a few steps about the room, looking down to watch the swaying of his skirts.

Then, because he did indeed feel braver than normal, Segundus lifted his head and said to Godfrey, "I would like to kiss you again."

Godfrey looked at him. "Are you certain? When I hadn't heard from you I thought that maybe..."

But Segundus was very certain. The question had never been, "Did he want to kiss Godfrey?" but instead, "Ought he to want to kiss Godfrey?" Truly, the answer was "No, he should not want to kiss Godfrey," but Segundus had never been very good at suppressing the desires he should not have.

And desire was indeed the word. In the Molly house, Godfrey had been charming and compelling, but here in Segundus' room Godfrey was even more so. You see, Segundus had never been one of those men to seek Mollys for his carnal needs, for Segundus' desires tended towards a more masculine appearance. Perhaps it had been Segundus' upbringing in the schoolyard, or at college (or at the many professional gatherings he attended), but he longed for wide shoulders, and well-muscled thighs in breeches; he liked the roughness of whiskers, and dark hair upon strong forearms.

Now in his man's clothing, the desirable parts of Godfrey were all the more obvious: his sharp jaw and his dark sideburns; his long neck encased in black stock; strong calves in grey stockings; and a trim, well-made person in his smart, black coat.

The beauty of Godfrey's person, coupled with Segundus' newfound bravery, made Segundus very bold. "I am indeed certain I should like to kiss you," said Segundus. "That is, if you will not mind it."

Godfrey did not answer this. Instead he stepped closer, took Segundus' face in his hands, and pressed their lips together.

Oh! Oh! Was there anything that this pretty, blue gown did not change? Segundus felt a thrill run through him, for he felt almost as if the gown had affected his perspective also. Why, was it not rather pleasant to enter into the fantasy of the situation and consider himself a young maiden swept up into a powerful man's embrace?

Godfrey pressed his tongue slickly into Segundus' mouth, and Segundus accepted it with joy.

Though, truly, Segundus was more of a matron than a maid, but that did not mean that he could not pretend to feel delicate and beautiful and wanted.

"Oh, John." Godfrey broke the kiss and laid his cheek against Segundus'. "If you wish it, I could show you... Perhaps it is too soon, but if you enjoy wearing a gown, then you might like to be..." Godfrey swallowed. "...fucked in one also. It feels... I cannot describe it."

Poor Segundus felt all his breath leave him on an instant. He was suddenly so very hard; he could feel himself pressing against the linen of the shift. (And, oh, how bared he felt! Despite all the layers, it was a strange thing to think that anyone could merely lift his skirts and expose his private parts to the world.)

Segundus clutched a hand in the back of Godfrey's coat. "We should not," said Segundus. He wondered if Godfrey could feel how hard Segundus was, pressed together as they were. "We are brothers."

"Yes," said Godfrey, pulling back to look Segundus in the eye. "But I should still like to, if you are willing."

Segundus groaned, and placed a grasping hand upon Godfrey's rump, so as to draw them closer. He hoped Godfrey could feel him through his skirts (for he could certainly feel Godfrey through his breeches). "Yes, replied Segundus. "Yes, yes. I am willing. More than willing. I should not be so, but I am."

Godfrey kissed him again at this, and Segundus was lost to it. Oh, Segundus was not normally so eager so soon! He did not normally conduct himself with so little reserve. It could have been the gown that produced this effect on him, but Segundus fancied that even in his usual clothing he would be the same. There was something dazzling about Godfrey that had swept Segundus away; he had never met anyone that his body had yearned for quite so much as this.

And then Segundus was kneading Godfrey (how hard he was!) through his breeches, and Godfrey did what Segundus had wondered about: he lifted up Segundus' skirts and took him in hand.

For a moment, they merely stood and stroked each other. Godfrey's palm was cool and smooth against the heat of Segundus' private piece, and Segundus' breath felt ever so loud in the air about them.

"Come," said Godfrey, pulling his hand away, "we should move to the bed." He removed his coat and shoes, then unbuttoned his breeches.

Segundus stared as Godfrey pushed his breeches down. Oh, Segundus longed to touch Godfrey's piece unclothed (to feel the warmth of it) but Segundus instead clenched his hands by his sides.

Godfrey appeared to notice this hesitation. "Ah," said Godfrey, stepping out of his breeches and stockings. He did not put them to one side, but instead held onto them, uncertain. "You," said Godfrey. "You have not done this before?"

Segundus flushed (though he fancied his face must have been fairly red to begin with). He shook his head. "No, I have done this before. Several times."

"Then..." prompted Godfrey.

"I fear that I will ruin your gown," replied Segundus.

Godfrey smiled. "That you need not worry about." He looked Segundus in the eye. "You think no-one has been fucked in it before?"

Segundus suddenly felt himself very hard all over again.

"You are right that there some gowns I do not wish to ruin," replied Godfrey, now removing his waistcoat. "And those I keep only for certain uses. But there are others, such as this, that I reserve for wearing in the Molly house."

Experimentally, Segundus pressed himself through the fabric, but soon let himself go. "Even so," said he, "this silk is very pretty. I should not like to stain it."

Godfrey gave him a fond smile. "Very well," said he. "After all, the gown is now yours to do with as you wish." He walked over and started to unbutton the robe. "But I should like you to keep the undergarments on if you can; you will enjoy it."

Thus Segundus acquiesced and set to removing Godfrey's stock as Godfrey himself helped to remove Segundus' robe, skirt, rolls and slippers.

"Now," said Godfrey, when all was done, and he had led Segundus onto the bed, "you should know that I do not do this often (I normally prefer to be on the receiving end of such an act), but today I would like you to have the experience." He squeezed Segundus' fingers. "Therefore, if I am clumsy, I apologise."

"I will not mind." Segundus retracted his hand and instead ran it along Godfrey's leg and up under his shirt. (Compared to Godfrey, Segundus felt very clothed.) He squeezed Godfrey's thigh. "I am not so experienced that I can judge another's performance."

Godfrey took a breath, but frowned. "When were you last fucked, John?"

Segundus flushed. "I do not quite..." He thought about it. "Perhaps three years ago? I think it was three years."

Godfrey flushed also. "And you are certain you want to now?"

"Yes." Segundus nodded. "Yes. I want everything." He leaned close to give Godfrey a kiss, and moved his hand further up Godfrey's thigh until he could feel the heat of Godfrey's private parts upon the backs of his fingers. "My lack of action does not mean that I have not spent the past three years longing for it."

"Oh, John," whispered Godfrey. "Would you believe it if I said I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you now?"

Segundus' private piece ached. "Yes," he said. "Yes I would believe it."

After another kiss, Godfrey then left the bed to rummage through his case upon the floor. From it he took out a small, ivory pot, which he opened, and then thrust in the fingers of one hand to scoop out an amount of grease. "Come, then, John," said he. "I recommend you lie on your back, but it is up to you."

Segundus did as he was told, pulling up his petticoats as he did so and, oh, he was not used to this part of the experience. With his skirts hitched up and himself exposed, he felt perhaps more lewd than he would have been if he were naked. He spread his stockinged legs and bent them at the knee.

Godfrey warmed the grease between his hands, and it was so easy to see that he was hard beneath his shirt as he climbed back onto the bed. Without further ado, one hand was sent down between Segundus' legs, not entering him, but merely resting in the space between Segundus' arse cheeks.

Segundus watched the concentration upon Godfrey's face, as Godfrey moved his hand so as to rub against Segundus' most intimate of places.

"However," said Segundus, surprised by how affected his voice now was, "though I say it was three years, that does not mean that I have not..."

"You have done this to yourself," suggested Godfrey hoarsely.

"Yes," said Segundus. He stretched his head back as one of Godfrey's fingers pressed inside him.

Godfrey allowed his finger to slide back and forth. "Recently?" he asked.

Segundus attempted to look at what Godfrey was doing but found he couldn't see over his skirts. "Not since we first met," said Segundus. "If that is your question."

Godfrey nodded. The movement of his finger slowed a little.

"But that does not mean that I did not want to," said Segundus, feeling himself grow harder at this confession. "In fact, I wanted to very much. But I have not touched myself at all since... I was worried that I might think of you; and if I thought of you, that I might never stop."

"Oh, John," said Godfrey. He added a second finger and thrust them both together.

For a moment, nothing else was said. The fingers inside Segundus' body made slick noises, and Segundus, for himself, found that they felt better than he was normally used to. He gasped up at the ceiling.

"I shall not tell you what I have done," said Godfrey with a coy look. He placed his free hand upon Segundus' private piece and stroked upwards.

Segundus had to stifle a whine (for he knew he must stay quiet in case his landlord was downstairs). He wondered, for a moment, how shocked anyone would be to enter the room to find him dressed in stays and petticoats and being fucked by another man.

"Oh," moaned Segundus. "I would like your shaft inside me."

Godfrey was breathing heavily. "Yes," said he. But he did not enter Segundus immediately. Instead he continued on thrusting his fingers, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, (and sometimes with an accompanying stroke to Segundus' piece), until Segundus could hardly bear it. Segundus tried to arch his back, but was too restricted; he tried to catch his breath but could not.

Eventually, Godfrey walked back over to the pot and scooped out more grease, then he lifted the hem of his shirt, and smeared the grease over the red length of his private piece.

Poor Segundus (who had glimpsed very little of Godfrey's parts throughout the act of preparation) gasped to see it. He felt as if he might reach his climax from the sight alone.

Then Godfrey climbed back onto the bed and settled himself between Segundus' legs (between Segundus' skirts also). Segundus could feel Godfrey position the head of his piece at Segundus' entrance.

"I shall now..." breathed Godfrey. "May I?"

"Oh," said Segundus. "Please..."

Thus Godfrey pressed himself inside, long and slow.

Should we ask here, what it feels like to be entered by one's own brother? Perhaps not, for Segundus did not view it in that way at all. The knowledge of their near relation resided only in Segundus' conscience; thus at times like these, when his conscience was not engaged, Segundus did not think of it. For who was Godfrey to him truly, but this captivating, handsome stranger, whom Segundus longed for with every inch of himself.

When Godfrey was fully-seated he looked to Segundus who, breathing heavily, ran his hand over Godfrey's jaw and said, "I am well. I am well."

Segundus was indeed well. Oh, it burned slightly as Godfrey set to fucking him, but that was not much against the pleasure already coiling in his limbs.

Rarely did Segundus feel this good when he had been fucked for so little time. He tried to catch his breath but it was running away from him. With every push and pull he could feel the whole length of Godfrey's piece as it moved.

Segundus gasped and reached down between them, past rucked-up skirts, to grasp his own private piece in hand.

"Yes, yes," breathed Godfrey. He attempted to kiss Segundus, but they had very little success, so Godfrey set to fucking Segundus faster instead.

Oh oh! The feeling inside Segundus was spiralling away. His stockinged-legs were exposed but every part of his torso was clasped in the firm embrace of the stays. The feel of his hand on his piece was sweet, and Godfrey was looking down between them, him eyelashes dark against his cheeks.

"Ah!" cried Segundus at a particularly well-timed thrust. He bit his lip desperately, but this did not last for long, for he could barely catch his breath through his nose alone.

Such swirling, spiralling pleasure! Segundus felt light with it: giddy. He was so close already! Normally he did not... Normally it took so much longer for him to feel this way when he had another man's piece inside of him. He removed the hand from his shaft and clenched it in the blankets instead.

"Oh, John. Oh, John," said Godfrey, reaching out to link their fingers together.

Segundus' mind soared. He fancied that he might be in love. And so soon! He gasped and gasped.

Godfrey's thrusts slowed now, until they were long and deep. Segundus pressed his head back into the bed and, trembling, spent himself over his rumpled skirts.

For a few moments longer, Godfrey continued thrusting, and then slowed to a stop.

Segundus rested a palm on his sweaty forehead. The world was a little white at the edges. He wondered if he was going to faint.

"Come," said Godfrey. "Come. Come." He pulled out and took Segundus' hand, guiding Segundus to sit up. Segundus did so, feeling that now he could breathe a little easier. He set his shoulders back and swallowed.

Godfrey was still holding Segundus' hand. "How do you feel?" asked Godfrey.

Segundus took a deep breath, and then another. "Is it always that good?" he asked.

Godfrey laughed. "Most times."

Segundus leaned across to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you," said Segundus. "Though I see I have left you cruelly unfinished."

"Ah," said Godfrey, his thumb tracing a circle upon Segundus' wrist. "Might you have a remedy for that?"

"I might." Segundus sat back and moved himself so that he could reach into Godfrey's lap. Godfrey's piece was hard and slick in Segundus' hand. "Will you remove your shirt for me?"

Godfrey bit his lip for a moment. "You wish to see me naked?"

"Yes," replied Segundus.

Thus Godfrey pulled his shirt over his head, and was not his body everything that Segundus had ever wanted? Dark hair ran across Godfrey's breastbone and down from his naval. His nipples were brown. Segundus twisted his hand and Godfrey shuddered.

But Godfrey was not looking down at Segundus' hand; he was looking at Segundus' face. What dark eyes Godfrey had, this close to his end! Godfrey leaned forward for what was presumably a kiss, but he was breathing so quickly that it was little more than a fumbling brush of open lips.

"Please," said Godfrey against Segundus' mouth. "Please please please." His trembling hand caressed Segundus' elbow.

And so Segundus did all he could to make the strokes of his hand fast and tight, and soon Godfrey was curling against Segundus' shoulder and making a mess of Segundus' fingers.

For a moment they merely leaned against one another, Segundus stroking his free hand over Godfrey's hair, but then Segundus rose and procured a couple of handkerchiefs to wipe themselves down.

As they were doing so, Segundus asked, "Will you help me to remove these undergarments? As nice as they are, I would like to rest a little with nothing separating us. That is, if you will not mind staying for a while."

Godfrey acquiesced and soon they were both naked and lying beneath the blankets of Segundus' bed.

"Thank you," said Segundus eventually, watching Godfrey's face, "for visiting, and for such an expensive gift. I am glad of it; of all of it."

Godfrey smiled. "I am glad of it also. And I am glad to have met you."

"Yes," said Segundus, smiling in return. "Forgive me for being uncertain before. I know I can worry too much sometimes." He sighed. "But I need not have worried about this." Segundus pressed his hand to Godfrey's cheek. "I am very happy."

"May I visit again?" asked Godfrey.

Segundus thought about it. "Perhaps," said he. "Though it might be safer for us to meet at the Molly house." He smiled. "However, I should very much like to lie with you again if you allow it. And we may do it whichever way you like the best."

Godfrey laughed, and for a moment they watched each other without saying anything more.

Segundus felt his mind begin to wander. It truly was good fortune that Godfrey had taken the initiative to visit. Segundus considered how confused and indecisive he had been before; how he had anxiously thrown himself into his studies. Then he remembered the prophecy that had been recited to him by the magician of Threadneedle Street.

Segundus sighed. "I am afraid," confessed he, feeling suddenly rather guilty, "that I may not stay in London forever."

Godfrey looked at him.

"You will think me foolish, but a street magician told me that magic was going to return to England, and I fancy that I must try to find it."

Godfrey frowned. "And there will be no magic in London?"

Segundus paused. He hadn't truly considered it, but he knew in his heart that London was not the place. "I think I must go North," he explained, "where their connection to magic is stronger." He thought some more. "Though I do not know yet where I should go. Perhaps to York, or even to Newcastle."

Godfrey laughed, though it sounded a little melancholy.

"Are you able to travel?" asked Segundus. "Perhaps, if you are willing, you might come North with me?"

Godfrey shook his head. "My work is in London. I cannot move it."

Segundus sighed again. "I am sorry," said he. "I wish I could stay, but I know that I must follow this new path eventually. Not that I understand why I must do so but... it is a feeling. And I have found that sometimes I must trust these feelings of mine, even if others think me odd."

"Am I one of those feelings?" asked Godfrey.

Segundus rested his hand on Godfrey's neck. "You are more," said Segundus. "You are... it feels like you are everything, though we have known each other for so little time. Truly, I have never felt this content with anyone else."

Godfrey took up Segundus' hand and kissed it. "My dear John."

"But I do not mean to leave London so soon," clarified Segundus. "I must think more, and plan what I mean to do. Not to mention," said he, "I must spend more time with you."

"I should like that," said Godfrey.

"And when I do go, we shall write to each other often," said Segundus, "for I shall always be thinking of you."

Godfrey leaned across and kissed him.


End file.
